


Guest of Honor

by HuntedHart



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Aphrodisiacs, Bondage, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Toys, Slavery, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Sonic the Hedgehog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:09:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23009839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntedHart/pseuds/HuntedHart
Summary: Based on the old cartoons where Robotnik takes over Mobius and Sonic is a freedom fighter trying to overthrow him. Human Sonic gets captured and publicly humiliated. Mind the tags: non-con where the victim is forced to enjoy it.
Kudos: 38





	Guest of Honor

A slave, naked and bound, being led out into the center of a crowded ballroom was not in itself an unusual sight. In fact, it was quite routine. The nobles at the gala would complain if they were deprived of their entertainment. Many of them had offered up prized companions as public playthings; others had done so with the expectation that the slave would have a new owner by the end of the night. It was not the sight of such a slave that caused the noble attendees to gasp, then cheer, but rather the fact that this slave had a spectacular reputation, despite being new to slavery—so new, in fact, that until recently he had been a notorious enemy of the state.

His face had been all over the news for years, and now he was here before their eyes. Sonic, the face of the global Resistance, enemy of the Empire, wore not a stitch of clothing. Every muscle and scar was bared for the awestruck crowd. His wrists and ankles were bound with sturdy magnetic manacles, stronger than any chain, and two burly soldiers gripped either arm. No matter how he struggled and thrashed, he was going nowhere, but the ball gag fastened between his lips was purely decorative, doing nothing to mitigate the volume of his furious shouts. And he was furious, his body straining, his feet dragging, all his strength bent toward escape. But it was all for nothing. The burly henchman wrenched his arms above his head with minimal difficulty and locked the cuffs in place. His hands skyward and his feet shoulder width apart, Sonic was exposed to the ravenous admiration of the aristocracy he so despised.

He was a sight to behold, and would have drawn stares with or without his fearsome reputation. Wiry muscle shifted and strained under scarred brown skin, muscle gained not by exercise in vanity but by pushing his body to the limit. He was not a large man, but the fire in his eyes made him look larger than life. The knowledge that he has personally dispatched many of the Empire’s deadliest soldiers added to the illusion. It was plain to see at a glance that he would gladly kill any who dared to lay a hands on him, if only he could get his hands free.

How long would he remain defiant? That was the question. He was helpless to defend himself, and there were several partygoers here that would take exquisite pleasure in personally breaking his spirit. His skin was flushed, the first sign that the aphrodisiac he has been dosed with before the party was starting to take effect. Before long, he might just break himself.

Countless eyes burned into him, betraying both interest and apprehension. Eyes raked over Sonic’s body, devouring the sight of his muscular arms and chest, his trim waist, his exposed dick. He stared them down in return, his fear carefully concealed in favor of righteous anger. No one seemed eager to get too close, as if at any moment he might free himself and take his revenge on whoever was within reach. Good. Let them look all they wanted; he wasn’t ashamed. So long as they kept their hands to themselves.

He should have known that was too much to hope for. A nobleman stepped out of the crowd, hiding his nerves behind a wolfish smile. Sonic growled as he approached, and he hesitated for only a moment before removing one fine white glove, then extending his hand to touch Sonic’s face. Sonic jerked away, his eyes alight, his teeth bared around the gag. “Careful, he bites!” someone in the audience joked.

“He can’t bite right now,” someone else said.

“I don’t know,” the nobleman said. “I’d better make sure he’s not hiding a weapon.” His hand drifted downward, growing bolder as Sonic thrashed but could do nothing to dissuade him. The noble’s fingers circled Sonic’s dick, making his body jerk. Sonic tried to kick, but only managed to bruise his ankles against the cuffs. The nobleman groped back between Sonic’s folds and pressed two fingers into him. To Sonic’s horror, the touch sent hot shivers up his spine. He clamped his thighs together, but that only served to grind his dick against the palm of the noble’s hand. He shook his head from side to side, cursing the best he could with his mouth filled, but he couldn’t stop his cheeks from flushing a deep red.

“Not as tight as I thought,” the nobleman said, loud enough for the crowd to hear and laugh. “Who knew the Hero of the Resistance could get this wet just by being tied up and pushed around?”

Sonic wanted to spit, but the closest he could get was the drool trickling down his chin. Between the hand sliding against his cock and the fingers stroking inside of him, he was starting to comprehend the urgency of the situation.

“I think I like you like this,” the noble said. “You’re no more dangerous than any slave. Go on, what are you going to do to stop me?”

Others were gathering their courage, pressing in on all sides. Sonic was a novelty, a rare prize, and every loyal citizen of the Empire wanted to see him brought low, to have a hand in breaking him for good. Hands groped him, pinched him, pulled his hair. Every touch felt like a slap in the face, just as every touch sent heat racing to his dick. The hand between his legs and the drugs steadily working through his system were inescapable, and they were going to drive him out of his mind. Already Sonic’s skin was flushed and hot, and his body writhed entirely without his say-so.

The noble withdrew his fingers, now dripping with Sonic’s arousal, and his sigh of relief was cut short. Beside him, within arm’s reach, was a chest-high table, and on it were instruments of torture which the very sight of made Sonic’s blood freeze in his veins. The nobleman selected a curved dildo, not especially long, but thicker than a couple of fingers. Sonic tried to turn away, but someone grabbed his hips and held them in place. “No no, let him squirm!” someone said. “He’s gorgeous when he struggles.”

For just a moment, Sonic went very still, but that was just enough time for the noble to tease the dildo against Sonic’s entrance. The blunt head spread him open, and the ridges along its length dragged against his cock, one-by-one, each making his breath stutter. He began to twist and writhe once more, but the noble followed with deft hands, and soon the dildo was being forced into him. The ridges teased against his inner walls, and the curved tip pressed against a spot that made heat flow like sticky syrup through him. It took all of his willpower not to moan aloud, but when the dildo slipped out and slammed back in, he didn’t have a choice.

Sonic only realized he had made a sound when the crowd around him tittered and cooed. He shook his head, schooled his expression into a fiery glare, and locked eyes with the bastard that was dead set on making him fall apart. The noble’s earlier hesitance was nowhere to be found, and all that was left was a grin so smug Sonic wanted to tear his hair out. “Look at you,” he purred. “The good doctor’s greatest enemy. Slavery is better than you deserve, even if you make such a pretty toy.”

Sonic slammed his forehead against the bastard’s nose. The nobleman reeled back, shrieking out curses and clutching his face. Blood trickled down his mouth and chin, staining the high collar of his embroidered jacket. Sonic laughed around his gag, the sound shrill and feral. He stopped laughing when someone slapped his ass. He craned his neck around to see who had done it, but someone grabbed his hair and forced his gaze forward once more.

Before Sonic were two other nobles, a man and a woman. The latter he recognized, more or less; she was a countess and one of the good doctor’s most loyal supporters. When the man reached for Sonic, she slapped his hand away with her fan. “Wait your turn,” she said, her cold gaze a sharp contrast with the saccharine tone of her voice. The nobleman slunk away, and the countess turned those cold eyes on Sonic. She gave him a ravenous smile, removing her black lace gloves and tucking them into her generous cleavage. “I’ve been wanting this for a very long time,” she said. Sonic glowered at her, trying very hard not to feel like a trapped fly watching the spider creep toward him.

The countess reached between Sonic’s legs, pulling the dildo out of him. He shuddered as each of the ridges caught on the way out, and was horrified to realize that its absence left him feeling empty. He was overheating, a pressure steadily building within him until it was too much for him to bear. Every touch felt like a shock going right to his dick, and for the first time that night he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be left alone or if he wanted someone to touch him in a way that would count.

But of course it wasn’t his decision to make. The countess handed off the used dildo to someone less important, then selected a new toy. An oval small enough to fit in her palm, it didn’t look like much, but when she pressed it against Sonic’s dick the vibrations were strong enough to shake him to his core. Sonic’s arousal built at an alarming rate, the heat and pressure growing too intense to bear. He began to writhe, not sure if he was trying to get away or press against it, but neither was going to save him. As Sonic shuddered, teetering on the brink, the countess pulled the toy away.

A mournful sound escaped Sonic before he could stop it. Laughter rippled through the crowd, but he barely heard it. He rubbed his thighs together, trying to get enough friction to finish himself off. It wasn’t enough, and he was forced to bite back a frustrated scream. “Something wrong, pet?” the countess cooed. Sonic’s glare could have set her hair ablaze.

The moments dragged on, and when Sonic’s breath slowed, the countess pressed the toy against him once more. Within moments he was back at the edge of bliss, but it was yanked away before he could be satisfied. Over and over again, she teased and denied him until he was moaning frantically, desperate for any stimulation that might push him over the edge. Once, it almost worked; Sonic thrust out his chest as someone rolled his nipples between their fingers, but the countess slapped their hands away just as Sonic was within reach of his peak.

His pride was long gone, and his mind was next to follow. The drugs were in full effect now, humming through his veins and making his body sing. Each time he was brought to the edge, he learned a new height of desperation. It wasn’t long before he gave up all pretense of defiance and rocked his hips, grinding his dick against the devilish little toy. If he was quick enough, clever enough, maybe he could chase down his orgasm before she put a stop to it.

When she pulled away once more, Sonic sobbed. Her fingertips, soft as silk, stroked his inner thigh, and her lips brushed his ear. “A shame you’re going to be roboticized,” she said. “It was lovely watching you break.” Sonic cried out as she walked away. At least the gag kept him from begging for more.

There were other faces, but they all blurred together. All Sonic could focus on was their hands, groping him, teasing his nipples, thighs, folds, cock. But the teasing brushes weren’t enough. All he wanted, all he could think of was getting something, anything substantial between his legs. He thrashed until the cuffs left his wrists and ankles bruised, he pressed his thighs tight together. Someone slapped his ass and called him a whore, and Sonic moaned aloud. He no longer had the willpower to deny it.

Sonic could have wept when someone pried his legs open and placed another toy between them. This one was long and thick, spreading him wide, with a textured nub that nestled against his dick. The pressure alone was almost enough to satisfy him. He rolled his hips, desperately trying to grind against it, while deft hands tightened straps around his hips and thighs. Everywhere the toy touched sent sparks of pleasure through him, and Sonic was already working himself to climax when it started to vibrate.

Sonic’s orgasm made his body quake. His gag did little to muffle the volume of his screams. His senses drifted between the overwhelming pleasure and the jeers from the crowd. The aftershocks coursed through his body and left him trembling on unsteady legs, and the vibrator didn’t stop.

Sonic lost track of time, and after three or four orgasms, he lost track of those too. It was impossible to say when one ended and the next begun as his body shook and his mind was reduced to blissful static. Then his dick began to ache, overtaxed and oversensitive, and the vibrator never slowed. Every brush of hands against his skin felt like lightning, and his legs shook so much that he might have collapsed if not for his bindings holding him upright. The devilish buzz, fixed at an intensity designed to drive him mad, had gone from being a much-needed relief to unbearable torture. Sonic began to writhe, twisting his hips in a frantic, futile attempt to dislodge the toy, but the straps held fast.

Distantly, he recognized the sound of laughter. His pride overwritten by the need to escape before he passed out from overwhelming pleasure, Sonic was a magnificent sight. He thrashed with all his strength, he moaned and sobbed into his gag. Without it, he might have begged like the slave he was supposed to be. Would this be enough to break him? Surely not. Freedom fighters were notoriously thickheaded, and him most of all. No, he would be back for more, tortured like this over and over again until he was finally roboticized. Only then would he be a slave inside and out.

When Sonic fell, so would Mobius. For now, it was enough to make the Hero of the Resistance scream.


End file.
